


Can we watch the sun rise?

by thatdragonchic



Series: The Road to Recovery [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5a divergent, Alpha Derek Hale, Also comment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Disorder, Bc you're lovely like that, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski in Love, Derek Uses His Words, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PTSD, Smutty sterek, Stiles is recovering, leave comments please, low key angst, mentions of Scott - Freeform, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: Derek thinks loving Paige was easy but loving Stiles was easier because as the world caved in, they still felt whole in their broken pieces.--Part 2 of road to recovery, read part 1 first to get full picture!Derek takes care of stiles early in the morning really and they make love at some point





	Can we watch the sun rise?

**Author's Note:**

> A little different than my usual style?? I think it feels a little empty the way you'd feel at 4 am, how stiles feels at this time. Idk lmk what you think, comments are greatly appreciated thank you !

The bed was cold and empty, Derek's super senses peaking at the loss of warmth in his arms. He listens carefully to the sounds in the house, smells for anything and comfortingly picks up on cigarette smoke and coffee. Stiles couldn't be very far, just outside on the balcony. Derek shifts, glancing at the clock. _4 am_ on the nose. The sun has hardly even peaked from it's bed yet, his body protests but Derek isn't comfortable leaving stiles to his mind alone. He smells more carefully for anything chemical, anything bloody, anything harmful but catches nothing. Just coffee and smoke and traces of sadness.

It lingers in Stiles, since he left beacon hills. The sadness, the quiet. It _scares_ him, since their phone call that night. He worries, he worried then, he worries now, in early November, when stiles hands never stop shaking. He said he felt a lot like Jenny, Derek understood that more each day that passed. _I think you deserve to know… know that I'm not going to make it._

Derek follows the scent, all the way outside, down the porch steps to the lakes shore. Stiles was sitting on a blanket, legs pulled up taught to his chest, arms circled around with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. Sinewy limbs were wrapped in pieces of clothing too large for him, Derek's sweatshirt, Derek's sweatpants. He could smell the salt of tears and mucus, he could feel Stiles profound sadness. He was empty, hollow. Derek meant it when he said stiles was like a ghost sometimes.

He settles on the blanket beside Stiles, wraps an arm around him. Instinctively, stiles leans into the touch. Derek is safety and forgiveness. Derek is what anchors him to shore, but safe in the arms of a lover, he remains stupefied by thought. His eyes distant on the water, he emptily sips at his coffee. Derek kisses the crown of Stiles head, broken inside by how fragile Stiles has become. Yet, Derek couldn't help but think how _strong_ he still is.

“You're okay, Stiles…”

“There's so much blood..’

“There is no blood. You're far away from there now.”

“Derek it's everywhere…”

“It's all in your head, babe.”

“I killed him, I killed Alli too.”

“No… no you didn't kill her. You know that.”

“Its _my fault_ ,” he whispers raspy and stuffy. “it's all my fault.”

“Stiles you didn't hurt those people…. Nogitsune did. You are not the nogitsune. You didn't do that. Donovan would have killed you. You protected yourself… you protected others too… Donovan wouldn't have stopped killing at you and your dad.”

“Derek I hurt them.”

“You didn't hurt anyone stiles.”

Stiles nods, as if the words reached him that time, and he takes Derek's hand, lacing them and staring for a very long while. He sips slowly at the coffee, before finding it a home on the ground. He returns to Derek's hands; Tracing every crevice and every line in Derek's hand with his eyes. Scanning and memorizing before falling back against the blanket in the grass, and gently tugging his lovers hand to go down with him. Derek's body and heat hovers soothingly over him, strong arms caging in his body, Derek's hair tickling his forehead, bright green eyes watching him for approval, for something.

  “You won't let them hurt me?”

“Nobody is going to hurt you. I swear... “

“you cross your heart?” stiles asks childlike and sweet. He nods, still so close to Stiles, who tilts his head up just enough and Derek kisses slow and sweet. He'd always protect Stiles, make him feel loved, accepted… _safe._

Stiles clung to Derek, gripping his bicep like he might fall into the earth if he let's go. Derek's kiss is deep and slow, tongue gently pressed to his lips. They lean into each other, easy two can be. Everything, for a moment, feels perfect and right… like there’s no better place than against the other. Stiles parts slowly but keeps derek close, tongues just barely slipping away from each other, breaths still mingling. “I love you,” Stiles reminds quietly.

“I love you too…” Derek assures, pausing as he watches stiles. He can smell anxiety, fear, sadness… he can see how tired stiles looks. “do you want breakfast?”

“Not yet… too early.”

The sky was still star struck and dimly lit by the moon, nestled away behind a bed of clouds. “When did you get up?”

“Three thirty maybe. I snuck out… didn't want to wake you.” Derek nods in understanding, stiles hand slowly caressing his cheek. Everything was calm, even the lapping of the lakes waves, fell to silent, subtle melancholy. A sweet, somber taste that Derek was well acquainted with, since he was very young even. But melancholy now was so different than 16… when he was lonely and afraid. Melancholy now was Stiles caressing his cheek on a thick blanket in the grass, the stars up above their head, sad eyes cast aside to watch the grass bow under the winds command. Melancholy now was flesh that tasted like sadness under his kiss, Derek leaving wet presses to Stiles strong neck. Melancholy now, unlike before, was tender love and compassion, not loneliness and sadness from his only remaining family across the room.

Stiles shifts his hand, tracing his path with his knuckles to his neck, then his scalp, fingers threading in Derek's hair, scratching scarcely and rather tenderly as he rested beneath him. “what's on your mind?” Derek whispers.

“The world is a cruel place, my love,” stiles whispers in return. “it's done us both dirty.”

“Yeah but… we'll get better. Things will improve.”

“How can you know?”

“I know… I know you. Who you really are, the energetic, witty, fast talking, adhd ridden genius… who really likes to solve a mystery. Can't shut up no matter what, smiles like the sun was in his teeth… like totally _blinding_. I know you, Mieczyslaw, better than anybody else. I know you're so strong… you'll get better. Just like I got better.”

Stiles is silent for a long time, eyes shifting occasionally, before he abruptly stops the constant motion of petting Derek's hair, sits up so he's more eye level with Derek, who's caught off guard and relaxes on his side.

“They weren't your fault,” stiles finally says, watching Derek intensely, in a way that reflected his old self. Dereks brow furrows  “Kate… your family… they weren't your fault. You…… you didn't know much better. You and I? We could have worked out bad, if you weren't you… because you're so sweet and determined and… I knew you wouldn't hurt me but say it wasn't you, or say you were that menacing guy I used to think you were… I could have been in that same position. It…. I don't… blame you. I don't think they do either.”

“Stiles…”

“No I just… you don't need to say anything. I just… that's what I think,” stiles whispers, so sure of himself, kissing Derek softly, capturing his bottom lip between his. It was brief, though stiles tenderness for him lingers.  Stiles sits up then and reclaims his coffee. “I don't agree when you tell me those things either. But it's what you think and who am I to stop you? Maybe one day you'll convince me of your side. I like to think maybe one day I'll convince of mine… maybe you won't seem so sad when you sleep.”

Derek's heart sinks, leans up to kiss the back of his neck. “you make me happy.”

“You make things better.”

“you're tired… we should sleep.”

“Not very tired but I miss our bed.”

“Then let's go back to bed.”

“I wanted to see the sunrise.”

“We have a few hours still.”

Stiles nods, takes a gulp from his mug, and winces a bit at the bitterness. He let's his head fall forward for Derek, blood running hot at his tender kisses. How nice it is to be loved, he thinks. Everything with Derek was good, but god everything inside it hurts. He learned after a few days that healing happens alone and that it was just nice to have somebody to hold when healing.

“Stiles…” Derek whispers softly, adjusting his body just slightly so that he was leaning on his forearm, head looking up at Stiles from the side, his features were soft and tired, he looked older in a way yet so very young- in a sort of indescribable manner. There was so much weight yet so much youth, Derek wonders if he looked that way after the fire, so young yet so much older than he was. It didn’t subtract from his beauty though, it just twisted the feeling in Derek’s gut, that he had somehow failed to protect, _yet again_ , the one that he loved and yet again, it ruined that person.

“Yes, Mr. Hale?” Stiles says, eyes lighting up a bit with slight amusement at Derek’s silence. The pieces of the person were still there, not totally lost in the devastation.

“Let’s go inside, your cold,” he whispers, noting how cool Stiles’ skin was, how his hands shook just a bit more than usual due to the wintery evening.

“It is cold outside,” he notes, watching Derek. His coffee was getting cold too, and the sweater wasn’t enough, but he’s been out here long enough that teh cold didn’t cause his teeth to chatter anymore.

“Yes it is, and it’s warm in bed.”

Stiles nods, finally resigning and waiting for Derek to stand before letting Derek help him up. He takes his mug with him and Derek takes the cold, damp blanket from the ground. The two trudge inside, soft and quiet, Stiles safely tucked under Derek’s arms, where he is meant to be, where he never thought he would end up being. If someone told Stiles when he was 15 that Derek Hale was going to be the love of his life, the one who protected him in his darkest hour, the one to always save his life, he would have laughed, told them they were crazy, anything to shoot down the prospect. The brooding, cold, and strange seeming guy was no way his significant other, not when he was 15 and hardly knew the man behind the stature. Derek was so much…. More. More than stiles ever imagined, more than the person he got to know over that summer, more than the person who left beacon hills, more and more than Stiles could dream. Everyday he felt like he found out something new about Derek, and everyday he felt like he was holding him back.

He’s so lost in the haze of his train of thought he doesn’t even realize that they’ve reached the inside of the house, that it’s warm and heated, that Derek has set the cup in the kitchen and the blanket on the chair by the door, he doesn’t realize he’s headed towards the room subconsciously until Derek loops his arm back around him. He thinks that Derek deserves better, better than this.

Stiles worms out of his hold and heads back to bed, Derek following curiously. “You okay?” he asks, sensing the mood shift, Stiles has curled up, back to Derek’s side of the bed. Derek settles on his side, hand carding through Stiles’ hair. “Does this have to do with… the whole making me believe your side thing because-”

“No, it’s not that,” Stiles cuts in. He turns on his back, links derek’s free hand with his closest hand and looks up at him. “It’s stupid, I’m just… overthinking.”

“Yeah, it’s a hobby you enjoy doing,” Derek whispers, the hand by Stiles head twitching in a way that he caressed the skin under Stiles’ ear. Stiles smiles just slightly, pulling his hand away and leaning up to catch Derek in a kiss, his hand resting on Derek's neck now. The two pressed chest to chest on their sides. Hands slipping down to Derek’s biceps, Stiles pushes the short sleeve up slowly, even on cold winter days he was so warm.

Derek sighs and it sounds like heaven to Stiles, his leg wraps up around Derek’s waist, hands that can’t help but wander. And they’re tugging at clothes but oh so hesitantly. Like this was the first time, like they weren’t certain if it was right or wrong.

“I want you,” Stiles affirms.

“I don’t want to _use_ you,” Derek whispers.

“You could never…”

“Are you sure this is something you want?”

“Very, very sure,” Stiles answers between kisses to Derek’s neck, leaving marks that disappear in moments. “Not fair, make them stay.”

“That’s not something I’m great at doing.”

“Just… stop believing in your magic for like five minutes. My great work, gone to waste,” he complains, continuing to mark Derek’s skin even if his hickeys disappear. “Ass.”

“I can’t _help_ it,” Derek says smiling, securing a hand on Stiles thigh, tugging at the waistband of his joggers.

“You can too.”

“Can not.”

“We are not doing this before sex.”

“You started it?”

“Dammit Derek,” he giggles, kissing him passionately, softly. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, like the world was moving like dripping honey, and was as sweet as some liquors. Stiles sheds his shirt, and his pants go not long after. They’re grinding at a very sweet tempo, like they had the rest of the morning, like maybe Derek didn’t have work later or that Stiles didn’t have things to get done that day. It was a lazy grind and it had Stiles parting from their kiss, lips parted just slightly.

He’s still working on Derek’s own sweat pants when Derek pulls away to turn towards the nightstand, Stiles leg left propped on the bed lazily as he waits for his lover to return, watching Derek with loving eyes, memorizing the muscles in his back, the way they curve around the triskele. Everything about him was perfect and strong, the muscles in his back bending in a way that was unbreakable, easily reparable. Stiles admired it, vividly, openly. His love was like no other person on earth, absolutely, purely his own person and so gorgeous. Stiles could hardly imagine how he got so lucky, to have somebody that was perfect like this.

Once Derek has the bottle of lube, Stiles welcomes him back with open arms, leg wrapping back around Derek’s hip. “This would work better if my pants came off,” Derek whispers and Stiles nods, busy kissing at Derek's cheeks, he just barely allows for Derek to wiggle out of them, hardly contains a moan as Derek's erection presses to his inner thigh. They were down to their underwear, but god it was too much, and Stiles goes to kiss him but Derek stops before it happens.

“You can still-” Derek starts but Stiles shakes his head.

“ _No_ I want this…. You want this right?” Stiles asks, looking up to check if Derek was hesitating or afraid. Derek nods though, smiling softly.

“I want you,” he affirms, squeezing Stiles hip reassuringly, everything muted by the darkness, the moonlight. They were whispering and Derek wasn’t entirely sure why, and something about Stiles seemed so very innocent and new, his heart wholeheartedly open and trusting in Derek, that he would never hurt him. Derek knew that trust to be rightly placed but good god, he could never imagine how anybody could break Stiles, how anybody could hurt what was so pure inside, the goodness hidden underneath all the anger and hurt and sarcasm. Derek felt lucky, Derek felt… in love. Loving Paige was easy but god loving Stiles was easier.

And he leans in to kiss Stiles finally, Stiles accepting him without hesitation, their breaths catching as their tongues mingle and Stiles arms wrapping around Derek’s neck. Underwear coming off, not after long and Stiles grips Derek’s bicep with his life when Derek rubs two lubed fingers at his entrance before pushing one in, Stiles exhaling almost inaudibly, but Derek’s sharp hearing picks it up and it makes his heart race. As if Stiles were magnetic, his lips find Stiles again, hardly giving either of them the chance to breathe. Stiles pushes back into Derek’s hand and Derek pumps slowly, just the one finger until he’s positive Stiles can handle more, and he goes on like this until he’s sure Stiles is ready.

Stiles is no where near opposed and maybe a little sex drunk when Derek finally pushes into him, clinging to Derek, nails digging in just slightly, he buries his face in his neck and gasps. Derek keeps Stiles leg propped up, holding his thigh, going slow, mainly because it was 5 in the morning, and at 5 in the morning it feels right to do everything slow. Like it would be 5 in the morning forever.

Derek slowly pulls out before thrusting in again, going just a little deeper each thrust, holding Stiles close and steady, listening to the soft sound of his heart fluttering against his ribcage, the way he gasps every time Derek hits the right spot, grips him the right way. It was dizzying to see Stiles like this, to feel so magnetized, so taught yet so content. Stiles moans and Derek feels both lost and found at the same time, like his world just collapsed and came back together.

Stiles raises his leg just a little, grinding down just slightly as he pulls Derek back into a kiss, still tugging at the muscle of his shoulder, nails bluntly scratching down the bone, tracing to his bicep and back up again, resting dead center on his back as they kissed. Derek thrusting in deep as they fell forward, Stiles on his back. Stiles makes a helpless sound and Derek gasps audibly (ever the quiet lover, Stiles noted, something that hasn’t changed since their first time) and it makes Stiles swoon. His head falls back and Derek traces the line of Stiles throat with his nose as he thrusts in with a bit more force, Stiles breath catching and back arching just slightly. It was perfect, it felt perfect, for both of them.

And it didn’t take very long for them to come undone, left sweaty on the mattress with Derek adorning Stiles chest with kisses and bites in their afterglow. Stiles mumbles something along the lines of _not fair_ and Derek can’t help but smile.

“Not my fault you have poor healing abilities.”

“You have mutated abilities, who’s fault is that?”

“I’m guessing not yours.”

“That would be weird if it was,” Stiles mutters, hand running through Derek’s hair, already messy with sex.

“We should shower.”

“We should… but work.”

“Like… it's work to get up?”

“Yes.”

“I agree.” stiles rests against the pillow, watching as Derek gets comfortable. The way he fit perfectly with his head on stiles chest, their bodies slotted together. Stiles pet his hair, head tilted to the side. His body was craving a cigarette, but he wasn't in any will to move or ruin their moment.

“Stiles?”

“Hm?”

“I know I'm still new at this… long term thing, but you're worth it. Everything about you is worth it and I believe in you. Even if you never feel fully recovered enough to see Scott again or go back there again… I believe in you and your potential as Stiles, not as a human in a pack of wolves.” Derek pauses, nuzzling stiles chest for a moment, kissing softly. “I… want to make you happy. I want you to feel like you have room to grow and recover, like you can do that. Because I love you.”

“i love you too Der..”

Derek grabs a few tissues to wipe them clean, watching stiles shift and stretch in the bed before collapsing. He stays quiet and Derek is okay with that. Okay with quiet. Stiles sleeps and Derek is happy he's resting. He even calls out from work, because he knows that quiet can be violent.

So he stays home and he makes Stiles breakfast and Stiles stays quiet, even as he pokes at his breakfast. “we missed the sunrise.”

“Maybe we can catch it tomorrow. Can you eat?”

“I'm not very hungry.”

“Just two bites… then I promise we can go sit by the lake again.”

Stiles nods and two bites takes a long time, but he does it. And Derek is proud of him, even if it's not much… it's enough. Enough for Derek, anyways. Especially when stiles is up and cleaning up, then grabbing a grey knit sweater Derek had and slipping it on, tugging Derek's hand to go outside.

“Winter flowers,” he says as they stand on the porch. “because the autumn ones are dying.”

“If that's what you'd like.”

“I would like that. Mom used to love them.”

“Mine too. And a certain Boyfriend of mine.”

“Me?” Stiles asks with gleaming eyes.

“You,” Derek confirms smiling softly. Stiles nods, nestled comfortably under Derek's arm. “always you…” he whispers, kissing stiles head.

Time went faster at 9 am but somehow they were still at peace. The world didn't drip like honey anymore, and stiles still felt like anxiety and melancholy but… that was okay because Derek once heard his mother tell Laura the world was made for 2 people, and Derek never understood. Not until he was forced by his own anxieties to sit beside stiles in front of a lake while he cried. He understood it better earlier that morning when stiles was quiet and Derek was there, because he understood that sometimes it takes two to make things better, that the world was meant for the lovers, that they needed nobody else. Not at 4 am when the world was sweet, and smelled of sadness. Not at 5 am when it turned to sweet liquor. Derek understood then, and Derek understands now as stiles walks around his garden areas, inspecting the natural growth and forest life.

Things would be better, he was certain of this. Derek thinks loving Paige was easy but loving Stiles was easier because as the world caved in, they still felt whole in their broken pieces.


End file.
